


the countdown of you and me

by thompsborn



Series: tumblr prompts + drabbles [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Soulmate AU, talks about acceptance of death and the concept of dying young
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thompsborn/pseuds/thompsborn
Summary: May says Ben had a few hours on his clock when he got shot, says that he wasn’t supposed to die until later that night, but when they reached the hospital and May held his hand, he chose to transfer his last few hours to her, instead, just to give her that little bit of extra time. Peter thinks he’s a lot like his Uncle Ben, wanting to give their soulmates more time.But Harley isn’t stupid, and one day, he sees.He sees the fact that Peter’s clock only gives him a few more years, sees that Peter is scheduled to die at twenty-one now, and when he realizes this, he goes stiff in shock, fingertips skating over the countdown with narrowed eyes and his mouth set in a line.Voice low and monotone, he asks,  “What did you do?”(soulmate au where you have a countdown to your own death on your wrist and you and your soulmate can transfer time to/from your clock)
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: tumblr prompts + drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655254
Comments: 15
Kudos: 343





	the countdown of you and me

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda angsty but also they're in love? idk man an anon sent in the request and i filled it howdy howdy howdy

Peter only gives a little bit at a time, in order to not raise a red flag, in order to keep it hidden. He smiles and he laughs and he holds Harley’s hand, and when Harley is throwing his head back with a cackle, Peter lets out a heavy breath and transfers two days to Harley’s clock, and Harley, who chooses not to watch his time because, “It’s depressing and pointless counting down to your death,” never realizes that his clock has changed the slightest bit.

Peter notices, just like he always does, and when he looks down at his own clock, now two days shorter than it was before, he feels a sense of ease.

For as long as Peter’s been alive, his time has been fairly less than most peoples. According to Aunt May’s clock, she won’t be dying until well into her seventies, and most of the kids at his school have clocks that won’t run out until they’re old enough to have grandkids and retire.

When Peter was born, his parents looked at his clock, the numbers constantly shifting and counting down on his forearm, and they saw that his life span ended when he was twenty eight. Of course, their own clocks told them they’d be dying when Peter was only four, so Peter thinks they didn’t have a reason to be so upset, but May tells him that his parents were inconsolable because their son would never grow old. “They hoped,” May told him, “that your soulmate would have more time, and that they’d want to share it with you.”

Well, Harley did, when they first met. He was a 5’10 mess of an eighteen year old boy, carrying a large box down the hall, towards his dorm at MIT, and Peter had rounded the corner, and the box had fallen to the floor the moment their eyes met. Everyone describes the feeling of meeting their soulmate differently — Ben used to say that the first time he saw May, his heart settled in his chest and ached for her. May said seeing Ben for the first time made her head spin and her hands shake, but in good ways. Only one thing is commonly expressed throughout all these stories, and it’s that, once you see your soulmate, you know, somehow, that they are who you belong with.

Peter saw Harley and it felt like coming home.

Once they managed to snap out of it, Peter had offered to carry the box for Harley, and while picking it up, Harley saw the flash of numbers on Peter’s skin — at the time, ten years, two months, ten days, fourty minutes, and twelve seconds — and he reached out without thinking, wrapped his fingers around Peter’s wrist, and gave him ten more years.

Thankfully, there was nothing important in the box, because Peter dropped it, too, after that.

Harley’s clock, before giving those ten years, said that he was to die in his mid fifties — long after Peter, but still too young in Peter’s mind. As soon as they met, Peter was head over heels, as is the case for a majority of soulmates, and the idea of Harley giving up his already too short life span in order for Peter to make it to his thirties made him feel sick. He didn’t deserve that time more than Harley did. He still doesn’t. He never will.

And that’s why he gives his time away.

Because, thanks to Peter slowly giving Harley a few days here and there, Harley’s clock now says he’ll make it to sixty, and if he keeps transferring his time over at the rate he has been, then Harley will be able to make it to sixty six before Peter runs out of time to give him. So, he continues to transfer that time over, a few days here, a couple months one day because Harley is kind of tipsy and doesn’t notice the drastic change, and Peter’s own time keeps on dwindling, but he’s okay with that. He was never gonna live that long anyway.

May says Ben had a few hours on his clock when he got shot, says that he wasn’t supposed to die until later that night, but when they reached the hospital and May held his hand, he chose to transfer his last few hours to her, instead, just to give her that little bit of extra time. Peter thinks he’s a lot like his Uncle Ben, wanting to give their soulmates more time.

But Harley isn’t stupid, and one day, he sees.

He sees the fact that Peter’s clock only gives him a few more years, sees that Peter is scheduled to die at twenty-one now, and when he realizes this, he goes stiff in shock, fingertips skating over the countdown with narrowed eyes and his mouth set in a line.Voice low and monotone, he asks, “What did you do?”

“I—” Peter doesn’t get the chance to respond before Harley is yanking up his sleeve and looking at his own clock, features pinched.

 _“Peter,”_ Harley says, strained and airy and somewhere between horribly sad and horribly angry. Peter flinches when Harley levels him with a look so twisted and vulnerable that it’s painful to see. “I’m not taking your time.”

Peter stares down at his hands and shrugs. “I’ll just give it back to you if you don’t keep it.”

With more seriousness than Peter has ever seen him with before, Harley says, “If I have to give you back your time and then never see you again to make sure you can’t reverse it, then I fucking will. You are not dying that young for me.”

“I was gonna die young anyway,” Peter says, looking at Harley with wide eyes — he can’t fathom the thought of not having Harley in his life, can barely even conceptualize the mere idea of Harley leaving like that. Soulmates are a forever sort of thing - or, at least, as close to forever as the mortal soul can get, an _until someone dies_ type of agenda, an as close to always as possible. Harley is his almost always. “You deserve more time, and I want to give it to you.”

“I already had more time than you,” Harley argues, and he looks somewhere between pleading and furious, like he just wants Peter to understand where he’s coming from but is angry that Peter doesn’t already get it. “I had thirty eight more years on my clock, and you only had ten. And now you- now you don’t even have two, Peter. This isn’t- I- with your clock as it is you won’t even make it to graduation. That isn’t- that’s not- Peter, you can’t fucking do that!”

It looks like Harley is about to devolve into a full blown melt down of some kind, and it makes something in Peter ache, like a knife twisting in his gut. He reaches out without meaning to, and it hurts even more when Harley flinches away. “I just…” Peter trails off, a hand hovering in the air, feeling hopeless. “I don’t… Harley, you don’t get it. You don’t understand what it’s like to… to have everyone you love die before you, okay? I have- I have two people, Harley. Two. I have May, and I have you, and that’s it. Sure, we have some friends here, but the people I love, I…” He stops, shakes his head and swallows a sob. “May can’t lose any more time now that Ben’s gone, so I know she won’t die before me, but you- you could. You can change your time, and I can’t- I can’t lose- I am physically incapable of losing you, okay? I won’t be able to handle that. And you, giving me ten years like that? I can’t- I can’t take that from you. I can’t do it.”

“Even with those ten years, I still had more time than you,” Harley says, and that anger is gone, replaced with a desperation that burns in his eyes like a forest fire, the heat of which consumes them both as Harley chokes out, “What makes you think I could lose you so soon? That—” he lightly grabs Peter’s wrist and turns it around, staring down at the clock with pained eyes. “That’s a year and a half, Peter. You wouldn’t even make it to twenty two.”

Peter nods. “I know, and I’m okay with that.”

The noise that rips it’s way from Harley’s throat is one of devastation, raw and hurt as Harley exclaims, “But I’m not, Peter! I’m not okay with that! I’d rather give you some of my time so that we might actually have some kind of future together instead of having to grow old without you, okay? If we- if we make it even, if we share our time equally, we could die together, or at least make it to our thirties before you go. We can do something that doesn’t involve you dying so young.”

“I want you to live longer,” Peter tells him, hushed and sad.

“And I want to live _with you,”_ Harley counters. “I don’t care about making it to my sixties, okay? I care about making the most of my time with you. Don’t you get that, Peter? _I love you._ Me, Harley Keener–I am head over fucking heels in love with Peter Parker because _you’re my_ _soulmate_ and I won’t let you die for me.”

Shaking his head, Peter, now choked up by the tears he’s trying so hard to fight off, pleads, “Let me do this. Harley, _please_ let me do this, you have to let me-”

“I’m sharing my time with you,” Harley states, firm and unwavering. “If you really can’t fathom the idea of me dying first, then we can make sure I have a little bit more, a few minutes maybe, but I choose you over a longer life. I will _always_ choose you over having more time. Always. Is that clear?”

A painful sort of sob rips its way from the back of Peter’s throat, the sound grating and harsh and so hard to hear. “No, _no,_ Harley, you have to keep it!”

But there’s no budging this decision as Harley gently brushes his fingertips over the timer on Peter’s inner wrist, and he lets out a long, slow breath, watches as his clock goes up, the numbers steadily rising as Peter continues to sob and plead and beg, and it doesn’t stop until their times are almost exactly the same, save for an extra two minutes on Harley’s countdown to ensure that he won’t die first. Then, as soon as it’s done, Harley pulls Peter in for a tight hug, lets him cry into his neck and blinks away his own tears. “Don’t give it back,” he murmurs, holds Peter as close to him as possible, runs trembling fingers through tangled hair while his other shaking hand attempts to rub circles against Peter’s back. “It’s not just my time, okay? It’s _ours._ Don’t give it back. Keep it.”

“Harley,” Peter tries to say, but it comes out with a rough hiccup, so he gives up the attempt to talk and only nods. He wants a future with Harley, he’s selfish enough to admit that, even if he does want Harley to live longer more, but the pure conviction in Harley’s tone, the knowledge that Harley will leave and never come back if that’s what it takes for Peter to keep this time, is enough to suck the fight out of Peter. Everyone says that he’s strong, and he knows, in a lot of ways, that they’re right, but when it comes to his soulmate, Peter is weak.

When it comes to Harley Keener and his baby blue eyes and the way he can make Peter’s knees turn to jelly with a simple smile, Peter is _hopeless._

“Okay,” Peter rasps, hoarse and uneven but honest and true. “I’ll keep it. I won’t give it back, I promise, I love you, Harley. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Harley’s exhale is shaky. He holds Peter tighter. “Thank you. _Thank you.”_

“I love you,” Peter says again. It feels like all he can remember to say.

Harley’s lower lip wobbles, his eyes squeeze shut. “I love you, too. So much.”

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is spidey-lad!! come yell at me!!


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